


The Countryside Drabbles

by pennedgalaxyarchive (pennedgalaxy)



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-02-23 12:04:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2546819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennedgalaxy/pseuds/pennedgalaxyarchive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Instead of becoming the Penguin, Oswald Cobblepot moved to Smallville to retire from a life of crime. But he’s not alone, with him is his husband Jim and their adopted son Bruce Gordon-Wayne. Watch as they try to handle everything from domestic bliss to alien hiding neighbors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pavlovian Conditioning

**Author's Note:**

> This work will be a group of drabbles and snippets based on an Alternate Universe where Jim and Oswald married, moved to Smallville and adopted Bruce. As with all of my stuff this series will be unbeta'd until such a time as I get a beta. Which you know, is really unlikely. A lot of these snippets will be lacking of any sort of chronological order, so I apologize for that ahead of time.

"I really don’t think these curtains go with the living room, Jim." Oswald complained as he ran his fingers over a pair of yellow floral patterned drapes. They had been gifted them shortly before their drastic move to Smallville, it had been a wedding present from Barbara and Renee, the two had gotten back together after the unruly crash and burn of a wreck that been Barbara and Jim's relationship. They were doing well together, or at least that was what Oswald had managed to gather from overhearing Jim speak with them on the phone.

In Oswald's opinion, it was a wedding present most ghastly. "Are you sure this was an honest gift from Barbara? Miss Kean has made her mixed feelings about our relationship clear, on more than one occasion."

Jim rolled his eyes, continued to read his newspaper and nibbled at his toast. It was a Saturday and also his first day off since their arrival, for a such small town Smallville had an unusual amount of crime.“I think so, and what’s wrong with them? I kind of like them, they brighten up the place. ” He paused and looked over at Bruce who was ideally picking at his cereal. “What do you think?”

Bruce who was still dressed in a pair of soft Grey Ghost pajamas blinked and looked up between them, his expression was thoughtful. “Black or grey would be more appropriate given the colour scheme-"

Oswald smiled and gave Bruce a proud look. “That’s  _my_  boy.” **  
**

"Although I can certainly see the psychological benefits associated with more cheerful patterns." Bruce continued contemplatively.

Jim grinned, folded his newspaper, leaned back in his dining chair and raised his cup of coffee eye level and smirked. “Now, that’s  _my_ boy.” He paused and pulled out a section of the newspaper and handed it to Bruce. "Just for that, you get to read the Comics first."

Bruce grinned brightly and his eyes began to roam across the page with interest.

Oswald crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Jim. "I know what you're doing."

"Oh, and what's that?"

Oswald raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Like you don't know." He paused and gave the preoccupied Bruce an analyzing once over. "You're conditioning him."

Jim chuckled at Oswald's surly disposition. "Oh yeah, I can see it now. Jim Pavlov, at your service, conditioning criminals since nineteen thirty nine."

"Trying to misdirect me isn't going to help." Oswald assured as he got up to clean his finished plate.

Jim shook his head in disbelief. "You're insane." 

"James, don't argue with me. We both know I'm always right-"

"That's highly debatable."

"-just finish your toast."

 


	2. Satellite Imaging

Smallville was as decent place as any to settle down, it was calm, quiet and by all rights a good place to raise a child. Especially a kid like Bruce who had desperately needed an escape from the dark skyline of Gotham and the flashing lights of the paparazzi.The last time the media had gotten their hands on him it had been just after the adoption hearing, it was actually one of the best encounters Bruce had ever had with them. A few people had been disgusted by the idea of two men adopting a young boy, but luckily enough for them the paparazzi that had bothered them hadn't shared those opinions.

The most memorable reporter had been a fastidious young woman named Veronica Vale, she had smiled softly at them and had regaled them with tales of a daughter only a little younger than Bruce. At the end of the night she had taken a picture of the three of them smiling and hugging one another, when the newspaper had arrived a day later Bruce had gone through it, scissors at the ready. In the living room hung a newspaper clipping, it was housed in a mahogany frame. Not everything about Gotham was bad and sometimes Oswald missed the city that had housed him. Oswald sighed and glanced away from the picture, sitting on the couch was Jim, he was idly picking at some paperwork and the TV was on in the background.

Their son was nowhere in sight. “Where’s Bruce?”

Jim looked up from his stack of papers, a pen rested between his fingers. “On the phone with Alfred, he got a role in Hamlet; I think Bruce and him are talking about all of us going to Gotham to watch.”

Alfred was currently employed on as the custodian of Wayne Manor, in his leisure time he pursued a career in acting. Him and Bruce still saw one another and talked as much as the distance would allow, but ultimately most of the time they simply kept in contact by phone. Oswald hummed in thought and sauntered across the room, curiously he peaked out at the world from behind a ridiculous pair of curtains. “That might not be a bad idea; I’m convinced something is wrong with this town.”

It had taken some time to adjust to the simplicity of Smallville, the town when one discounted the fields and farms was a small place and so a city boy like Oswald had near gone insane due to sheer boredom. However that had quickly faded when he had heard the locals speak of a meteorite shower that had occurred several years ago.

 Jim sighed. “You’re being paranoid, and there is nothing wrong with Smallville. So stop spying on the neighbors.”

 Oswald gave Jim a dismissive hand wave. “I’m not _spying_ on the neighbours, I’m merely _observing_ them.” Oswald replied as he watched with interest as a red pickup truck parked outside the Kent family house that resided opposite. Martha and Jonathan Kent exited the vehicle, their earnest son Clark trailed behind them as they entered their home.

 "There’s something off about the Kents.” Oswald mused thoughtfully. “All those accidents they seem to have? Hardly seems like a coincidence, that broken barn roof and that upended tractor, all within the space of two months? I think they’re hiding something.”

 Jim gave an exasperated groan and pinched the bridge of his nose lightly. “Something off? You said the same thing about the _Luthors_ , that’s why we moved further out.”

 Closing the curtain Oswald looked at Jim with serious eyes. “I’m a criminal, Jim-“

 Jim raised a pointed eyebrow and coughed sternly at the other man’s words.

 "Alright, a _reformed_ criminal, I know how to spot liars when I see them and the Kents are certainly lying about something. I’d say insurance fraud with all those accidents they seem to have, but never have they once tried to claim anything for them, in fact they avoid bringing it up at all.”

 Jim stood up and moved forward, standing in front of him he placed his hands on Oswald’s shoulders, he gave him a soft sympathetic smile. “This place is driving you crazy isn’t it?”

 "Yes, but that is beside the point-"

 He moved his left hand up to affectionately cup Oswald’s pale neck. “I’m sure I could get you a job at the station, you know, in spite of your record. So please, just leave the Kents alone, Bruce and Clark are best friends, I don’t think he’d appreciate it if you suddenly started eyeing Clark up the way I do a suspect.” He paused and gave Oswald a steadying glance. “I’d hate for us to have to move, _again_. Please don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

 Oswald crossed his arms, rolled his eyes in irritation; he knew Jim had a point. “Oh alright, but I still think they’re hiding something.”

 Jim grinned earnestly at him. “You wouldn’t be you, if you didn’t.” With a fond eye roll he kissed Oswald lightly on the cheek. “I’ll go put dinner on, and you-” He pointed at Oswald’s chest with his thumb. “Will avoid all paranoid urges whilst I’m gone.”

 Arranging the papers in an order only known to him, he moved to stand in the living room doorway and glanced over his shoulder at Oswald. “Promise?”

 "I’ll do my best." He replied with a sheepish grin.

 Jim raised his eyebrows suspiciously but said nothing and headed for the kitchen, with Jim now out of view he immediately returned to his place at the window sill. He could get started on ignoring the obvious later. Staring through the glass pane his hand rooted through his back pocket, removing his cell phone he placed the device against his ear.

“Hello, Edward." He greeted. "Do you have that information I asked you to gather?” 

 A couple of cities away Eddie smiled. “Luckily for me, it wasn’t easy. I had a hard time sorting through the data but I got what you asked for.”

 “Excellent work, Nigma.” Oswald smirked triumphantly. “Fax me the satellite images of the nineteen eighty nine Smallville meteor shower.”


	3. Halloween

Halloween in Smallville was surprisingly a big event; practically everyone dressed up in some way, Martha from across the road had decided to go as a witch last they talked and Jonathan as a werewolf. They even hosted an annual party at the town hall, much to Oswald’s bewilderment and despite his list of reasonable objections Bruce and Jim had managed to rope him into attending with them. He crossed his hands over his chest, feeling a little insecure and ridiculous. He was dressed in a long cloak that trailed along the floor and he wore a nicely tailored black and red suit to match, all that was missing was a pair of fangs, which at some point earlier on he had outright refused to include with the rest of his costume.

“I can’t believe I agreed to this, I look ridiculous.”

Jim raised an eyebrow and looked Oswald over with an appreciative eye.

“Really? It’s not that different to what you usually wear, the cape aside.” He paused and fiddled with a camera that hung from a cord around his neck. “Just relax, Count Dracula. You look good, don’t worry.”

Oswald rolled his eyes in feigned irritation but his cheeks blushed at the praise. He too gave Jim a long once over. James wore an authentic army uniform, the same one he had worn during his days spent in service of the military; he looked clean cut and professional, yet somehow deadly upon further inspection. Jim radiated an effortless grace and a brightness even Gotham had failed to extinguish, the uniform suited him, just as Oswald had always suspected it would.

“At least you get to wear something familiar.” Oswald remarked as he fingered the seam of his cloak.

Jim smiled. “It’s only one day of the year and besides Bruce is going to love it, it’ll be good for him.” He stopped at the sound of creaky floorboards, which usually signified that someone was at the living room door. “And here he is now.”

Hovering in the doorway was Bruce; he wore a black flat rimmed sombrero, a sackcloth domino mask and a raven coloured cape. Hung at his hip was a plastic sword, the kind used for fencing. As always with Bruce, he was honouring his parents in his own special way, it was his first Halloween without them.

“You look great.” Jim told him with a proud affectionate smile.

Oswald nodded in agreement and watched happily as Bruce smiled brightly. “Now that we’re all ready, it’s about time we left.”

"Not yet.” Jim urged. “I’ve got to get a picture of the two of you before we go.”

Despite his lingering embarrassment about his clothing, Oswald decided that anything was worth the gift of catching Bruce on camera, especially whilst so adorably dressed. “Oh alright then.” He agreed as he moved to stand next to his adopted son. “Only one, James.”

Jim bobbed his head agreeing with his terms, he raised the camera eye level. “Side by side.” He instructed. “And work those capes.”

Oswald rolled his eyes but complied and held his cape close to his chest. “I remember the days when you were serious.”

Looking through the camera lens, Jim smirked. “You’re serious enough for the both of us.” He paused adjusting the camera in his hands. “Now, say cheese!”

“Cheese…” They repeated in unison unenthusiastically.

The flash went off and Oswald and Bruce broke apart. “What about you, James?” 

“Oh, we can take a photo when we get back; Clark is probably getting impatient waiting.”

Oswald rolled his eyes at the mention of the youngest Kent. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Bruce grinned, unsheathed his sword and used it to point at the door. “Let’s go! My ally awaits.”

"Lead on  _Zorro_.” Jim replied with a grin. With one last glance at their house the Gordon household exited and began what would later turn out to be a very good night.


	4. The Interrogation of Clark Kent

The thing about Tuesdays, Bruce would muse someday far into the future, is that they are basically the less annoying younger brother of Mondays, and Mondays he had learnt early on were usually the biggest enemy a Smallvillian can ever face. Apart from a weak crop harvest, that is. Tuesdays had a tendency to expect the impossible from you. Mondays were all about getting back to work, relearning the productivity you had presumably lost over the weekend. Tuesdays, however? They had no mercy. Bruce was usually given the majority of his homework on a Tuesday, Friday came second after that, but ultimately it was further evidence of Tuesday being some sort of sadistic sentient entity.

“You sure it’s a good idea to study at your house?” Clark asked as he adjusted the strap of his bright blue backpack. “I mean I’ve never been over to your house before, you think your dads will be okay with it?”

"Oswald might ask you some questions, but I’m sure Jim will like you. He worries that I don’t have enough friends.” Bruce replied with a nonchalant shrug.

Clark blinked boyishly at him. “You call your dads by their names? Isn’t that a bit weird?”

“We’re a tad unconventional…”

Clark frowned and titled his head curiously. “Do I want to know?”

Bruce smiled enjoying, if only secretly, his hesitation. “Probably not, but you will.” He paused and jogged a little ahead of Clark. “Oh good, the car is here. Jim must be in.”

Following his friend he sped up his pace and rushed to the front door of the Gordon household. Bruce knocked a quick Shave and a Haircut and after a moment of awkwardly shared looks between the two boys, the door opened. Stood in the doorway was Oswald, instead of being in his usual three piece suit he was dressed casually in a pair of worn jeans and a t-shirt that had the words  _treading on thin ice_  written across the fabric.

“Ah, Bruce, welcome home. Looks like you brought a guest.”

Clark smiled and outstretched his hand like his Pa had taught him to do. “Hi, Mr Gordon! I’m Clark-”

Oswald smiled all sharp teeth and paranoid suspicion. “ _Oh,_ I am fully aware of who you are Clark Jerome Kent.”

“Oz, who’s at the door?” Bruce heard Jim call from within the living room.

Oswald turned his head and shouted over his shoulder. “It’s Bruce.” He replied. “And he’s brought a  _friend_.”

Bruce titled his head in confusion at the strange emphasis on the word ‘friend’. There was much he still had to learn about people and the subtleties inherent to them.

His head turned around again, his laser eyed gaze pointed on the two of them, his face unreadable. “Come in, then!” He exclaimed with a flamboyant gesture inside. “Don’t let me waylay you at the door.”

Clark gave Bruce a wary questioning look but the other boy simply shrugged, Bruce was just as confused as Clark. After a moment of shuffling inside whilst Oswald gave Clark constant curious glances, the boys finally decided to settle on the living room floor, their calculus homework was spread out across the carpet floor as Jim sat on the couch watching soccer on the TV.

“Dinner will be ready in an hour, boys.” Oswald called from the kitchen, he wore a white apron and his raven coloured hair was everywhere, mussed as if an epileptic bird had made a home atop his head. He looked as if he had been pacing whilst in the kitchen, which Bruce knew to be a common occurrence when Oswald had an idea he simply couldn’t shake off.

“Oh wow, Mr Gordon you cook? Are you good at it?” Clark asked with an interested grin. He was probably thinking about his mother.

Oswald smiled in a way that usually set off all of Jim’s internal alarms; it was a dark smile that spoke of hidden secrets. “Hmm, I’m decent. I make really good cannoli, but that’s about it.” He paused and laughed mysteriously. “Let’s just say, I’ve never had any complaints that weren’t immediately  _silenced_ after.”

“Uh, I don’t think I under-”

Jim stood up quickly as if startled. “Well, uh, Clark why don’t you and Bruce go upstairs and finish your homework? Me and Oz need to have a quick chat.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow at Jim who simply jerked his chin upwards and raised both eyebrows to indicate that he and Clark go upstairs. “I can show you my bedroom.” He told Clark as they gathered their notebooks and skipped up the staircase.

“We’ll call you down for dinner!” Jim shouted to them just before they vanished from their sight. He turned to face Oswald, placed his hands on his hips, stalked over to his husband and hissed. “Oswald, what the hell?”

“ _He_  asked, I simply answered.”

Jim shook where he stood, anger making itself known in the way he clenched his hands at his sides. “That, that is not the point! You’re supposed to be on your best behaviour and that includes Bruce and his friends.”

“I’m hardly going to  _poison_  the boy.”

Jim growled and gestured angrily with his hands. “That is not funny. That’s still an issue between us, just tone down the crazy, please.”

Oswald rolled his eyes as he untied his apron and placed it on the hook to the left of the kitchen door. “I make no promises.”

Jim growl-sighed, jumped onto the couch and practically buried his face into the worn leather of their couch. “Ugh, I give up. Wake me when dinner is ready.”

 

* * *

 

An hour passed without delay and the boys had finished their homework a couple of minutes before Oswald had shouted up to them about dinner. All of them gathered around the table, on the menu was steak, mash potatoes and corn.

“So, Clark.” Oswald began as he started slicing at his steak. “What is life like on a farm? Like Bruce and Jim, I come from the city so I’m a tad curious.”

“Pretty simple, sir.” Clark told him. “It’s hard work, but my Pa says that’s what makes life rewarding.”

Oswald nodded. “Hmm, that  _is_ interesting.” He paused and dabbed gently at his face with a napkin. “I recall overhearing that a series of accidents had plagued your household of late. That hardly sounds  _boring_.”

Clark’s eyes widened for a moment and nervously he played with his food. “I, I- uh.”

“Clark?” Bruce asked worriedly. “Are you alright?”

Oswald leaned forward and grinned sharply. “Oh  _yes,_ are you alright Clark? Gosh, you are staring looking a little pale- Ow.” He stopped when something kicked at him from underneath the table. Looking around the room his eyes rested on Jim, heatedly their eyes locked.

After that conversation seemed to die down and the four of them ate in silence.

Twenty minutes later Jim stood up, slammed his napkin on the table and threw his plate in the sink. “Well look at the time, nearly six.” Jim observed, looking over dramatically at his wristwatch. “Your parents are probably going to start getting worried soon and it is a school night, Bruce why don’t you get Clark ready and walk him home?”

For a moment Jim and Bruce shared a look and telepathically almost Bruce seemed to know what Jim was doing.

Clark sighed with relief. “Yeah, Mr Gordon, it’s probably time I got home.” He agreed.

The two boys then went upstairs and grabbed what small amount of belongings Clark had brought with him, with sheepish smiles the boys exited the Gordon house. Walking along the small path that linked the Kents to the Gordons, Bruce turned to Clark and smirked.

“Do you want to come over again tomorrow?”


	5. The Disappearance Of Bruce Wayne, Part I

Bruce gave a suspicious look around and slung his backpack over his shoulder. It was seven in the morning and the sky was unusually clear, above his head was a bright blue horizon the likes of which he had never experienced in Gotham. Looking around he spotted his best friend, underneath an old apple tree was Clark. Standing there calmly he looked almost small and unassuming in a red and grey plaid shirt and a worn pair of jeans.

 Bruce himself was wearing a black turtleneck, a brown button up jacket and a pair of firmly pressed jeans. Their school was a casual sort of establishment, uniforms were optional and practical clothes were recommended, but usually little was done to enforce this particular rule.

 With one last glance at his surroundings Bruce walked closer and Clark startled at the sound of his footsteps, turning to face his friend Clark observed him with curious eyes. “You’re using a backpack? You never use a backpack!” He paused and gave him a second glance. “You’re not wearing your uniform, why aren’t you wearing your uniform?”

 Bruce smiled at his friend’s questions. “Correct observations, Clark.” He replied with a pleased look upon his face.

 Clark raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest nervously. “You’re not going to school are you?”

 “No, I am not.” Bruce answered honestly. “And neither are you, if I have any say in the matter.”

 Clark’s eyes widened. “Woah, woah! Bruce back up a minute, you’re Mr-follow-the-rules and now you want us to what? _Ditch school_?”

 “I was thinking something a tad more creative than that.”

 At this Clark blinked and frowned thoughtfully at his friend. “I’m probably going to regret asking, but what did you have in mind?”

 Bruce raised an elegant eyebrow and smirked. “We’re going to Gotham.”

 “Wait, wait, you want to run away? And you want _me_ to run away with _you_? That’s insane.”

 “Hardly, Clark.” He began. “I’d hardly call it running away, especially if I intend for us to come back.”

 Clark sighed. “What’s going on, Bruce?”

 “Remember I told you about Alfred?” Bruce questioned, Clark nodded. “He just got cast as Hamlet in a Gotham production of the play, but Jim and Oswald said I couldn’t go and they didn’t give me an answer that was remotely satisfactory.”

 “And so your reaction is to runaway to Gotham, without adults just so you can watch a stuffy play?”

 Bruce rolled his eyes. “You’re over simplifying it, but yes that is my plan in theory.”

 Clark gave Bruce a pointed but questioning gaze. “In theory?”

 “In theory you’re there with me, too.” He paused and looked at Clark shyly. “I’d like it if you and Alfred met; you’re both very important to me.”

 At this Clark almost blushed, it wasn’t often that Bruce expressed any sentimental notions, his feelings usually being subtle and hard to read. “Is this Alfred guy some kind of family? You didn’t tell me much about him.”

 Bruce nodded. “He was my guardian before Jim and Oswald. He looked after me when my parents died.” He looked down shyly and placed his hands within his pockets. “I miss him.”

 For a moment both of them were silent, each of them contemplating their next course of action. Clark sighed and gave a resigned smile. “Let me get my stuff and I’ll come with you, but if anything goes wrong we’re calling our parents.”

 Bruce nodded. “Agreed.”

* * *

It was nine o’clock when Oswald awoke, bleary eyed and with a delicate yawn. Quietly he strolled out of bed, he wore a pair of pinstripe blue and white pajamas, his top was slightly ruffled and a button or two had been undone during his sleep, his pants were one size too big for him and he barely managed to avoid tripping up as he walked downstairs.

With a tired sigh he walked into the kitchen and began making himself a breakfast of fried bacon and eggs. After cooking and consuming his chosen food it suddenly dawned on him that something was off, Jim was naturally at work at this time of the day but Bruce was nowhere to be seen, his school uniform was still draped over the couch from when he had ironed it earlier the night before.

Before he could ruminate any further on this strange sense of dread the phone rang, he stood up and moved toward it. “Hello, Gordon residence. This is Oswald speaking.”

“Hello, Mr Gordon. This is Templeton School calling, we’re just checking in to see if Bruce is alright?”

Oswald blinked confusedly and his stomach sank low in his chest, his earlier dread rising to the forefront of his mind. “Why wouldn’t he be?”

“Well he hasn’t been into school this morning, we were only wondering if he was okay, the flu’s going around at the moment- ”

 The world seemed to slow for a moment and Oswald’s eyes widened in horror. “What do you mean he didn’t go to school?”

 “You didn’t know?”

 “Know? Know? Of course I didn’t know!” He hissed down the phone line, he placed a hand against the receiver and took a deep calming breath. “I need to check something, I’ll call you back.” He slammed the phone down and rushed into Bruce’s bedroom.

 The boy was nowhere in sight, his closet had been emptied of a few things and looking inside his draws Oswald noticed that the bank card the two of them had taken out in Bruce’s name was gone.

The evidence was starting to add up quickly and was immediately confirmed when he noticed a piece of paper hidden underneath one of Bruce’s pillows.

  _“Please don’t let that be what I think it is.”_ Oswald pleaded inside his own mind. With a trembling hand he began to read the note.

  _Dear Jim and Oswald,_

_By the time you read this I will already be gone, I assume you already know where I have decided to go and I urge you that I will be back and that I have not gone on my own, so please do not worry for I shall be safe._

_Yours Faithfully, Bruce ~~Wayne~~ Gordon Wayne._

 Seconds passed as Oswald stared at the note. Bruce had run away, _Bruce had run away_. More importantly Bruce had run away to Gotham, where Fish, Falcone and Maroni lived, Bruce had gone into a war zone with a target firmly painted on his back.

 His knees shook and his breath deepened. “Oh god.” Oswald huffed and realisation hit him. “I have to call Jim.”

 For a moment his hand rummaged through his pajama bottoms and once he grasped his cell he hastily dialed Jim’s work number, it rang for a few agonizing seconds before Jim picked up.

 "Hey, Oswald. How’s it going? You practically never call me at work."

 "Jim, the school called and Bruce didn’t go in this morning."

 "Wait what-"

 "I went into his room and I found a note, Jim. He’s gone to Gotham."

 "Shit I’ll be right home."

 It took twenty minutes for Jim to leave work and park into the family driveway, when he arrived Oswald was pacing frantically, sweat dripping down his forehead and he was exhaling and inhaling rapidly.

 "Jim, oh thank god." Oswald said upon seeing his husband. "I tried to call Alfred but I didn’t get any answer. Do you think something happened to them? Maybe Falcone intercepted them, maybe Bruce and Alfred are hurt, maybe they’re dea-"

 Jim stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on his husband’s shoulder. “Calm down, hun. I need you to be calm.”

 "But Bruce-"

 "I need you to be calm _for_ Bruce, having a panic attack won’t help anyone. We need to be focused.”

 Oswald halted in his step, closed his eyes and took a deep a breath, and when he next opened them he looked determined. “Okay, I’m okay now.” He paused and gave Jim a thankful grin. “He left a note, he’s gone to Gotham.”

 "Why would he go to Gotham?" Jim questioned.

 Oswald shook his head. “At this point it hardly matters, but I suspect he went to see Alfred, it’s the only thing that makes sense, but I-“

 "But you couldn’t reach Alfred, could you?"

 "No." replied Oswald as he bit his lip anxiously. "But I called Ed, he has a BOLO on Bruce’s bank card. I also notified both Harveys of the situation, Bullock’s keeping an eye out on the streets and Dent is keeping the mob bosses busy, just in case."

 Jim nodded, internally grateful for his husband’s common sense and for a moment Jim considered the situation, where would be Alfred be where he wouldn’t have his phone?

 "Oh." Jim’s eyes widened and he realised what was going on. "Hamlet!" He exclaimed. "He’s gone to watch Hamlet!"

 Oswald nodded, he now remembered that conversation Alfred and Bruce had had a couple of weeks ago. It made sense. “Grab your coat!” Oswald demanded. “We’re going to Gotham!”


	6. Christmas Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to interrupt your regularly scheduled programming with a Christmas chapter. Sorry it's not the second half of chapter 5 but that'll have to wait. Please enjoy this festive installment in the Countryside universe.

It was Christmas and everything had to be perfect, Oswald knew this. They’d already put up the lights a long time ago, just as November had been nearing its end, they even had tinsel wrapped around the staircase’s banister and three stockings were pinned onto the rustic fireplace. Jim had insisted that they splurge on a set of proper Christmas lights, ones they could store in the attic and get out every year like ritualistic clockwork. It was one of those things that Oswald knew to be tradition for practically everyone but him, after his father had died his mother hadn’t seemed to bother with all the Christmas rigmarole that they had once indulged in.

Oswald used to have so many questions he had wanted to ask her, but he never had and never would. Time had changed his reasons for asking, they were the kind of questions he needed the right motives for, to ask without them would be unforgiveable and perhaps a tad too emotional for his tastes.

Jim had seen, with painfully observant eyes, Oswald’s need to make this Christmas the best. It would be their first after all. In doing so the house had been filled with all sorts of Christmas memorabilia, a snow globe rested atop the windowsill, a dash or two of fake snow littered the countertop (accident, not intentional, Oswald had misjudged just how hard to shake the can and everything had gone everywhere) and mistletoe and holly hung from places one would assume were physically incapable of housing such foliage.

But more amazingly than all that was a real Christmas tree looming in the corner, glittering baubles and trinkets adorned the marvelous evergreen, tinsel hung off of the branches like a fur scarf around a rich woman’s neck and placed high above the branches and at the very peak of the tree was an angel made of real nine carat gold. A relic from Martha Wayne’s side of the family.

All three of them had decorated the tree the night before, Jim have even picked Bruce up in his arms and had lifted him high enough so that he could place the gold ornament  on top, it had been a heart-warming moment for Oswald and he knew that it had been a similar experience for Jim too.

“Stare at that tree any harder and it’ll spontaneously combust.”

Oswald rolled his eyes and chuckled briefly, he gave a soft sigh when he felt arms encircled him from behind. “My skills don’t yet include metahuman abilities, but your concern is duly noted.”

Jim smiled and detached himself from Oswald, he grinned when he saw that Oswald was wearing the same sweater as he was. The sweater looked huge on Oswald’s thin frame but somehow it managed to suit him, it was a grey monstrosity with a snowflake border and a ridiculous picture of a reindeer in the middle. The matching set had been a gift from Barbara, naturally.

“Are you going to tell me why you were staring at the Christmas tree as if it had all the answers in the universe?”

Oswald shrugged and looked at Jim with a somewhat vulnerable expression. “I just want everything to be perfect.” He paused and glanced pensively over his shoulder at the stairs. “He misses his parents, I don’t want him to forget about them but I do want him to see us as his own. Bruce deserves a good Christmas.”

Jim nodded and have Oswald’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “He will, I promise he will.”

Oswald opened his mouth ready to reply but stopped when they heard the stairs creak. Bruce it seemed was finally awake. “Good morning.” A polite voice greeted from the stairway.

"Good morning, Bruce.” Jim welcomed with a warm grin. “I’ve got some pancakes on the go for you, knew you’d be awake soon.”

 Bruce grinned softly at his adoptive father, descended the stairs and rounded the corner into the kitchen. The other members of the household followed him inside and they talked idly as Bruce nibbled at his breakfast.

 “When you’re done with your food we can get started on presents.” Oswald instructed.

 Jim bobbed his head in agreement. “Yeah, I bet you’re looking forward to that, right Bruce?”

 Bruce nodded furiously.  “I, is Alfred still coming for Christmas dinner?”

 Jim and Oswald shared a look, Oswald shrugged. “Unless he calls to say otherwise, I assume so.”

 “Oh good.” Bruce hummed taking a bite out of a particularly tough pancake. “I have a nice set of bound J. R. R. Tolkien novels wrapped up that I believe he would find most bewitching.”

 Jim laughed and moved to ruffle Bruce’s, somehow immaculate, hair. “Kiddo, I was there when you bought them, someone had to carry them home, remember?”

 They talked between themselves until Bruce finished his pancakes with excited gusto, after a couple of minutes of shuffling they all gathered around the tree.  Six presents rested underneath the canopy of pine green leaves, four of them were for their son and the other two were what they had got each other.

 “That one first.” Jim instructed pointed at Bruce’s smallest gift.

 Bruce nodded and began tearing into the wrapping paper, with the paper removed the package was now revealed. “You got me a cell phone?” Bruce asked with a pleased grin.

“Thank you!”

“With all the wandering off you do we need a way to keep in contact with you.” Jim remarked with a good humoured smirk.

Oswald gave a crooked grin and gestured to the package to Bruce’s left. “That one’s from me.”

Bruce nodded and began unwrapping his next present.  He gasped and have a bright smile when he saw the gift contained inside. “I’ve been asking for a microscope for months. Oh thank you, Oswald.”

“You are most certainly welcome, Bruce.”

Bruce didn’t need to be directed to the next present in line, he had noticed that he had been opening them according to size. He unwrapped the next and gasped when he saw a DVD boxset of the Grey Ghost tv series. “Oswald, Jim…” He trailed off as he looked at them with emotion. He use to watch the series with his parents, to have some of his most fondest of memories of his parents presented to him as a gift was unbelievably important to him.

“Thank you…” He told them as he gathered the DVD set in his arms and clutched them to his chest.

“Now, Bruce, this last one is from the both of us.”

Bruce nodded and unwrapped his final present, his eye widened when he saw a high end laptop lying across the floor. “I can’t believe you got me a computer!”

Oswald smirked. “If you’re going to investigate you might as well do so in style.”

Jim grinned and nudged Oswald with his shoulder. “Ditto, what he said.”

Bruce smiled and gestured to the present he had got the two of them. “Now time for you to open yours!”

Oswald and Jim shared a look. “Together?” Oswald raised an elegant eyebrow. “Together.”

As if competing in a race they tore through the wrapping paper with great fervour. “ ‘World’s Greatest Detective’.” Jim read aloud as he examined his newly acquired mug. “Truer words have never been spoken, well, written.” Jim continued with a teasing grin spread across his face.

Oswald fondled his present with delicate fingers. “A new set of ties? I’ve been needing some new silk ties. Thank you, Bruce.”

“You’re both welcome!” Bruce paused and looked at his adoptive parent questioningly. “Didn’t you get anything for each other?”

Jim gave Oswald a side glance that looked a lot like a leer. “Yes but that’s for  _later._ ”

Bruce just cocked his head in confusion, knowing that he was missing something important.


	7. The Disappearance Of Bruce Wayne, Part II

It had taken them a little while to walk to the subway station and in that time Clark had begun to fret about their choice to abscond to a city he’d never even seen before.  Bruce however had stayed resolute in his decision despite Clark’s continuous protests.

"Are you sure you know where we're going, Bruce? I've never been to Gotham, let alone to a subway station on my own." Clark questioned as Bruce bought their tickets with some loose cash. Bruce took the tickets and gave a grateful nod to the man he'd bought them off, the elder gentleman simply eyed them with suspicion and concern.

"Bruce-"

Bruce stopped walking immediately, turned his head to look at Clark over his shoulder and put a finger to his own lips. "Quiet Clark, and do remain calm." After a moment of reading the other boy's expression Bruce began to walk again, his pace was steady as they entered the carriage of the train.

Clark shook his head and jogged after him, his eyes widened and his brows rose in incredulity once he finally took in Bruce's words. "Calm? How am I supposed to remain calm, Bruce? We just ran away-"

Bruce frowned at Clark, his eyes shushed him. "You'll get us thrown off of the train if you continue like this."

Clark sighed and followed his arms over his chest. "We just ran away-" He reiterated in a quieter tone of voice as his eyes darted across the carriage. They had moved to the back of the vehicle where less people had congregated. Contrary to Clark’s preferences, Bruce was a rather private person.

Bruce rolled his eyes and brushed the dust of one of the seats with the back of his hand. "We've been over this Clark and I wouldn't call it running away, at least not precisely, I do intend for us to return." He paused. "Think of it as borrowing ourselves for a day." He continued as he shrugged off his backpack and sat down delicately, as if he believed the seat would bite him.

Clark shook his head and flopped down next to him. "Why do you always have an answer for everything?" Clark asked as he rested an elbow on the armrest.

Bruce laughed and undid the first two buttons of his coat; the train was full of people and with Clark pressed to his side his face had already begun to redden with warmth. "It's an intellectual gift passed down through the Wayne family for generations."

Clark shrugged. "Well the only heirloom my family has is that matching set of silver plates Aunt Dolores keeps trying to steal every Thanksgiving."

Bruce merely blinked at Clark in response. "We better get comfortable." He remarked thoughtfully with a look at his father’s watch. "We're going to be here a while."

Clark crossed his legs and placed his head against the vibrating glass window. "How long exactly is a 'while', Bruce?"

"Oh, only one hour to two."

Clark banged his head against the window with a groan. "We need to work on your definition of only."

* * *

Jim and Oswald heaved a sigh when their car pulled up into Old Gotham, thrumming with anxious energy they got out and entered the police station. It had been hours since Bruce had gone missing and Jim and Oswald had decided to meet Harvey and Ed at the GCPD headquarters, if only so they could pull their resources. A coordinated effort was often more effective than that of a disorganized endeavor.

"So yeah, Jimbo, like I said on the phone geek boy found something.” Harvey began as Jim and Oswald climbed up the steps until they were stood behind Harvey’s desk, right in front of them was the TV. Harvey gestured to Ed and threw an arm around the spectacled man’s chair “You tell 'em what you found, Ed."

"After putting out the BOLO it occurred to me that Bruce, to get to Gotham, must have used some kind of transportation. I checked the cameras near the bus routes closest to the theatre and double checked any potential alternate routes he may have taken-"

Jim sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. "Ed, just give us a quick rundown, we're kind of pressed for time as it is."

Ed gave an awkward smile and shuffled in his seat. "Ah, apologies. What I mean to say is that I searched through the bus routes and found nothing, so I decided to check the subway security tapes-"

Harvey shot Edward a pleased look and used the hand that had been leaning on Ed’s hair to ruffle his hair amicably. "It took shitting forever to get the guy to hand us them over, but, a presto guess who came a crawling out of the woodwork once we took a peek?" Harvey paused, gave a shrug and pointed to the TV. "Although there's a bit of a snag in this little old story of ours. The kid wasn't alone, show 'em the tape."

Edward nodded and proceeded to push the tape inside of the video player. "At eleven minutes past eight, two early pubescent boys entered the Smallville subway station and boarded a train set for Gotham." Ed told them as he fast forwarded the video.

The video was a grainy affair without sound but that mattered little because staring Oswald and Jim in the face was Bruce, whom they had expected to see, they gasped however when they saw Clark Kent trailing along after him. "Holy shit." Jim proclaimed.

Oswald reached into his pocket and gave Jim a serious look. "I need to phone the Kents." He told his husband before stepping out to make a most unfortunate call.

Jim rubbed at his temples, a headache beginning to form. "What was Bruce thinking? Running away with Clark, I've never seen Bruce act this irresponsible."

"Wait a sec, who's Clark?" Harvey asked as he looked at Jim curiously. "Bruce have a boyfriend you've failed to mention?"

Jim shook his head. "No, well, I don't think it's like that. They're best friends, they're always together."

Harvey simply raised an eyebrow in Jim's direction. "Whatever you say, pal."

"Anyway." Jim started. "Anything else, Ed?"

Ed nodded. "They got off near Grant Park and looked to be heading towards Grand Avenue. They ditched the cameras before I could track their movements any further."

Harvey grinned and slapped Ed on the shoulder with a gruff chuckle. "I don't know whether or not I should be impressed or disturbed by the state of this generation's youth."

Jim frowned and cocked his head thoughtfully. "When you said they ditched the cameras, what did you mean?"

"They took a left, straight into Park Row."

Jim eyes widened. "Fuck, we need to hurry."

"Yeah, I got that loud and clear. Park Row’s as shit as shit gets, but you suddenly seem squirrely than a rat on drugs. Spill the beans partner."

Jim eyed the exit hoping for Oswald suddenly reappear. " _Ex_ -partner."

"You’re breaking my heart here Jim, but what's up with Park Row that's got you so flighty?"

"I can't believe you forgot-"

"Hey!" Harvey exclaimed somewhat offended. "I had a lot on my plate back then, rookie."

"Whatever, he's gone to Crime Alley, he's gone to where we found Martha and Thomas Wayne."

Harvey's eyes widened. "Oh shit."

Jim nodded. "We need to find him, and soon."

* * *

"Are we lost? I think we're lost. We're completely lost, aren't we?” Clark questioned in a somewhat fearful tone as they moved into an area of town that looked more rundown that gothic.

"Clark, unless you want to attract every vagabond or thief within a quarter of a mile, I'd recommend being quiet."

Clark sighed, folded his arms over his chest and did his best to avoid tripping over loose garbage or getting stabbed with stray needles. "This is the farthest I've ever been from home. You said we were going to see a play, this really doesn’t look like any sort of theatre to me."

Bruce sighed and disappeared into a back alley located just outside of a rundown cinema. “I want to show you something first.”

Clark frowned until finally came to an alley where flowers dotted the ground, and a fire escape stood prominent and menacing in the background.  “Bruce?” He questioned warily. “What is this place?”

Bruce closed his eyes, as if in deep thought, he opened them with a whispery exhale. “This.” He gestured with his eyes. “This is where my parents died.”

Clark’s eyes widened and he looked at Bruce with shocked sympathy. “Bruce-”

Bruce shook his head and looked at the flowers with a laser focused gaze. “You don’t need to say anything, I know you understand what this means, what this means to me, to be able to show you this.”

“I don’t know what to say, Bruce.”

Bruce nodded and looked down at the ground as if he could see the lingering essence of his parents. “You don’t have to say anything, Clark. I just wanted you to know why I’m so…” He paused. “I am under no delusions, Clark. I’m not the warmest person to be around but I wanted you to know, in my own way, that you matter to me. You wouldn’t be here with me otherwise.”

Clark smiled softly and grasped Bruce gently by the shoulder.  “Thank you, when we get back I want to show you something, I mean you already know my parents aren’t, well, that they didn’t give birth to me.”

Bruce smiled and stared at Clark intently.

“Should I come back later, boys? Or am I interrupting something special right now?”

Both Bruce and Clark blinked and glanced at where the sound had originated from. Sitting atop the fire escape was a girl dressed all in black, she had goggles resting on top of her forehead and she had curly hair that suited the sharp look in her eyes more than words could express.

She frowned when finally got a good look at Bruce. “It’s you!” She exclaimed. “You’re that kid from that night.”

Bruce opened his mouth to speak but a distant shout distracted him. “Thief!” The words echoed behind them and Selina jumped down from the metal railing gracefully, she brushed past them. “Come on!” She yelled.

Bruce and Clark shrugged and chased after her, she zigzagged across the street and into an alleyway adjacent to a rundown warehouse. They lost sight of her and stood around dumbly for a moment until a pair of hands shot out from the darkness and dragged them inside.

“What-” They said in unison.

“Shut up, unless you guys wanna end up in juvy.”

They shook their heads and from the shade they watched a cop and a man dressed in a suit ran past, the girl visually relaxed once they had left the area. “Hah, they never check the corners.”

“Bruce, I think we might actually be lost now.”

Bruce nodded but dismissed Clark with a hand wave. “Earlier, back on the fire escape, you recognised me. How?”

“Kid-” She started.

“Bruce, Bruce Wayne.” He corrected. “That’s my name. And yours?”

She rolled her eyes. “Bruce, kid, whatever. It’s Selina but everybody calls me Cat. Anyway it was dark that night, but I was there and before you jumped ship and moved to a land far, far away-”

Clark coughed. “Smallvile.” He told her. “It’s really not that far away.”

She frowned and gave the two of them a very unimpressed look. “Look guys if you keep interrupting me I’m gunna do something exceptionally mean to your shins. Anyway, before you moved to _Stoolville_ I followed you a bit and yeah, it’s definitely you, I was looking for you so I could give you this back.”

Bruce frowned and then his eyes widened when Selina pulled out a single pearl. “You, you were there.”

“Duh, I already told you that.” She said before throwing the pearl into his hands.

His hands fumbled until he could place into his pocket. “You, I-”

Clark rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “What Bruce means to say is thank you, and also could you help us find Grand Avenue? Uh, we’re a little off course.”

“Hmm, it is kinda my fault you’re out this far and I’ve gotta head up there anyway, so okay sure. You better keep up, though.” She told them. “Grand Avenue, it’s little bit a ways from here but I could get you there by night fall if you’re still desperate to head that way.”

Bruce and Clark nodded.

“Alright then, follow me and watch where you put your feet, don’t wanna ruin those rich boy shoes of yours.”

* * *

It had been half an hour since Jim and Harvey had left the station in search of the two runaways, in that time they had they had searched the most obvious places and had questioned some of the residents. Oswald had decided to stay behind with Ed just in case one of the other cops found him, or they heard anything from Dent, or if by some miracle Bruce decided to hand himself over to the GCPD.

"I told you once already, Harv. I ain't seen no kids 'round here 'cept the usual." A man dressed in threadbare clothes said as he stared at a photo of Bruce and Clark.

Harvey gave an irritated sigh. "Oh come on Bernie, I know that you know everything that goes on around 'ere. We just need some information here, Winslow, there could be a reward in it for the lucky sap who does catch a glimpse of those boys." Harvey elbowed Jim in the stomach. “Isn’t that right, Jim?”

Jim glared at Harvey but nodded.  “Yeah, I suppose so.”

The man grinned at that, his teeth were yellow and blackened with cavities. “Well now that you mention it I might’ve seen two boys tagging along with that girl, Cat, I think her name was. Spritely that one, always running along rooftops and getting into some mischief, they headed north west I think.”

“Sounds like they’re heading to Grand Avenue.” Jim remarked thoughtfully. “Thanks for your help.” He continued, he looked like he was about to leave but the old man stopped him with but a look and a cough. Reluctantly he pulled out his wallet and handed the man a fifty.

“Now Bernie.” Harvey began. “I better not see you with a metal spoon and some tin foil next time I make my rounds.”

The older man laughed but it sounded like a wheeze. “I wouldn’t dream of it Detective Bullock, now amscray before the gang bangers see me talking to a cop.”

Harvey laughed and lead Jim out of the darkening streets.

“It’s going to be night soon.” Jim declared. “We need to go faster. Fuck I need to find him, anything could’ve happened to him and Clark by now! They could be dead!”

Harvey pinched the bridge of his nose and put a hand on top of Jim’s shoulder. “Jim, Bruce is a smart kid, yeah? He took his phone with him, right-”

“We already tried calling him-”

“Partner that’s not what I mean, if Bruce needed you, if he needed help he would call you. He’s stubborn but the squirt isn’t dumb. It’s not much, I know, but you can’t focus on what-ifs Jim, you gotta think clearly, man.”

Jim exhaled heavily and looked Harvey gratefully in the eye. “Thanks and you’re right.”

Harvey chuckled. “Aren’t I always?”

* * *

It had taken a while to get to Grand Avenue and Bruce had felt odd ever since Cat had given him a pearl from his mother’s necklace. His emotions were twisted tempestuous things, of which he had difficulty understanding, being back in Gotham certainly didn’t make matters any better. He had thought he was ready to go back to Gotham, however briefly. He hadn’t expected to feel everything so viscerally, but every time he looked around all he could hear was imaginary gunshots and all he could smell was the iron tang of blood. If he closed his eyes he was sure he would only see his parents in his mind’s eye.

“End of the line, boys.” Selina told them.

Bruce looked up and flashing in neon above their heads was a sign that read ‘Grand Avenue’, it was a large theatre and Bruce couldn’t help feeling proud of Alfred for such an achievement. “Thank Selina, for everything.”

Cat gave a crooked smile. “You’re alright, kid. Call me Selina again, though? And I’ll punch your arm numb.”

Bruce laughed. “Noted.”

Clark however raised an eyebrow. “Are girls usually so violent?”

Bruce shrugged and looked at Clark as if to say ‘How would I know?’

Selina rolled her eyes. “You really are a bumpkin, aren’t ya? In Gotham it’s pretty much normal, especially where I come from.”

Clark nodded accepting the information with only slight confusion. He turned to his friend. “Bruce?” Clark enquired. “What do we do now?”

“We wait for Alfred, the play is nearly finished by now.”

“Wait a sec...” Selina trailed off. “Did you just say Alfred?”

Bruce frowned. “Yes, he was my guardian and butler before I was adopted.”

“Damn, that’s weird.” Selina commented. “That’s why I’m here, I was going to say hi.”

“You know Alfred?”

“Hah. He caught me hanging around that huge ass mansion of yours, he let me stay a few nights, fed me a couple of times. He’s alright, for an old guy anyway.”

Bruce opened his mouth as if to reply but suddenly the doors of the theatre opened and people started flooding the streets, they watched until finally a familiar figure appeared the arched doorway.

Selina jumped down from her perch on a nearby balcony and Bruce and Clark walked out of their cover from the shadows. “Alfred!” Bruce shouted.

Alfred frowned when he heard his name being called, the voice was familiar and as he caught sight of three kids running to him at top speed he squinted, trying to see them more clearly. His when he recognised two of them. “Master Bruce!” He cried. “What are you doing here?” He asked as Bruce wrapped his small arms around him in a hug. The two parted and Alfred looked away from his former charge to gaze at Selina.

“And what exactly are you doing with them, Selina?”

Selina raised her arms in a gesture of surrender. “Hey! I ran into them in Crime Alley, I’ve been good-”

“Uh Selina? You were being chased by the police when we met-” Clark started but a fist collided with his arm cutting him off prematurely.

“Ow!” Selina cried as she shook her fist trying to ease the ache in her knuckles. “What the hell is your skin made out of? Rock?”

Clark laughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Muscle?” He suggested with a strangled kind of laugh.

Alfred sighed and shook his head. “You’ve been stealing? Again?”

She shrugged and kicked at the ground with the tip of her shoe. “Yes dad, but he had a freaking gold watch though, he ain’t going to miss some silver cufflinks!”

Alfred shot her an incredulous look but looked away in favour of glancing at Bruce with suspicion. “Where are the Gordons?”

Bruce froze where he stood. “Well, I, uh-”

“They’re not here, are they?” He interrogated with a sigh. “You came to Gotham, _alone_? What were you thinking, you stupid boy!”

“I, uh. Technically I didn’t come alone.” He gestured to the other boy. “I came with Clark.”

To Bruce’s left Selina ran a hand down her face in second hand embarrassment.

“Bloody hell! What on earth possessed you to go galavanting off to Gotham? Not only by yourself but with someone else who’s never even been to Gotham before!” Alfred’s voice was angry but hinted at a gruff kind of concern, he was almost certainly worried about what could have happened to Bruce had he not met up with Selina. His hands shook where they were balled up at his sides.

“I, I wanted to see _you_.”

Alfred exhaled softly and unclenched his fists. “Alright.” He replied. “I’m calling your parents, god knows how worried they are.” He continued as he pulled out a flip phone.

“They’re not-”

Alfred raised a single finger. “If you were about to say what I think you were, I’d be quiet if I were you.”

Bruce promptly closed his mouth, he didn’t dare argue with Alfred, he was already going to have a hard time with Jim and Oswald once they arrived.

“Bloody hell, thirty missed calls.” He announced with a glance at Bruce before redialling Jim’s number. The phone rang and to their surprise it echoed in the air, they all frowned and looked towards the source of the noise, their standing not a metre away was Jim Gordon and he looked both relieved and utterly furious.

Alfred closed his phone and nodded at the other man, they communicated almost silently just being looking one another in the eye.

“Jim-” Bruce tried as he saw his adoptive father walk over to him in quick angry strides, he was however interrupted as a pair of arms wrapped themselves tightly around him.

“I was so worried, dammit Bruce! Anything could happened to you!”

“I’m sorry, I just. I wanted to see Alfred, I wanted to see Gotham. I missed him, Jim. I missed Gotham.” Bruce replied, his face pressed into Jim’s shoulder.

Jim squeezed Bruce's shoulders before letting him go. “You have no idea just how grounded you are.”

Bruce gave a small smile. “Until I’m old enough to vote?”

“Something like that, yeah. God, Oswald is probably going crazy back at the GCPD. We better get back before Oswald starts stabbing people, again.” Jim paused and looked towards Clark. “Are _you_ alright?”

Clark nodded and looked at Jim sheepishly. “How _much_ trouble am I in?”

Jim gave a tired chuckle. “You’re parents mentioned something about stable duty for the next three months.”

Clark frowned and his shoulder visually slumped. “Aw, I hate mucking out.”

Bruce shot Clark an apologetic look. “Sorry?”

Jim laughed again and rubbed a hand down his unshaven stubble. “Oh, you _will_ be.” He paused and gestured to Alfred. “We’ll see you soon, Alf, but first I’ve gotta get these boys home, next weekend?”

Alfred nodded. “Next weekend.” He agreed, and Bruce smiled despite everything.

Jim gestured to the boys. “We’ve got a long and awkward car ride ahead of us. Let’s go.”

Bruce readjusted his backpack and walked forward, he only hoped Oswald would be as understanding.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kind of everywhere, I hope the scene changes weren't annoying.


	8. A Brief Interlude, Courtesy of Clark

It had been a week since Bruce and Clark’s excellent adventure and in that time Clark and Bruce had barely had room to breathe, let alone hang out, they had been separated for a time, if only to discourage further displays of adolescent rebellion.

Clark, however, had not forgotten the promise he had made to Bruce whilst the two of them had stood in the same alley where Bruce had lost his parents. Clark Kent, if nothing else, always kept his promises.

“Clark.” Bruce sighed as Clark led him, by hand, into a red painted barn. “What exactly are you doing?” He questioned as the other boy dragged him to side.

“It’s hard to explain.” Clark told him as he ushered him to sit down atop some hay. “Remember back in Gotham I said I had something to show you?”

Bruce nodded. “I do.”

“Okay.” Clark began anxiously, he bit at his bottom lip as he moved away one of the wooden floor panels. Bruce frowned in thoughtful consideration until suddenly his eyes widened when he caught sight of what lay underneath; it was a small metallic ship.

“This is going to sound insane, and probably really corny, but I’m an alien.”

For a moment Bruce was silent, until finally he began laughing.

Clark simply stared at Bruce in surprise as the other boy clutched his stomach and laughed as hard as humanly possible. “I’m serious!” Clark exclaimed. “I _really_ am an alien!”

Bruce shook his head, rolled his eyes and wiped a tear away as his chuckles began to die down. “Clark.” He started, his tone full of heady amusement. “Clark, that’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Clark exhaled roughly and gestured to the ship. “I’m not joking!” He jabbed his finger at the spacecraft. “Look at it, does it look fake?”

Bruce levelled Clark with an odd stare. “You really are serious about this, aren’t you?”

Clark nodded. “Yes.” He told Bruce. “And I can prove it.” Clark continued as he moved just outside of the barn, his hand beckoning for Bruce to follow. “Come on, I’ll show you!”

Bruce raised a curious eyebrow but decided to follow anyway.

The two of them had relocated to one of the Kent’s many pastures, luckily for the two of them any livestock were inside their respective barns. As they stood there Bruce decided to take him his surroundings, the grass was wet from brief rainfall and the sky was grey with barely a hint of sunshine. It was almost enough to remind him, if only minutely, of Gotham.

 Clark stood before Bruce, a look of utmost concentration on his face as he planted his feet in a ready position upon the ground.

“What are you doing?” Bruce questioned.

Clark, however, did not answer with words, Bruce’s mouth fell open in shock as Clark slowly, and shakily, lifted off of the ground, he levitated there for a minute but his focus broke quickly and he dropped to the grown with a less than delicate thud.

“That was-” Bruce began in awe, cutting himself off he shook his head like a wet dog. “That was amazing! _How_ on earth did you do that?”

Clark simply shrugged. “I’m not really sure on how, but uh, yeah. I’m an alien.”

“You’re an alien.” Bruce repeated in a whispery, shocked tone. He pierced Clark with a fond, but teasing, look. “That explains a lot.”

Clark frowned and titled his head in questioning. “What d’you mean?”

Bruce gave a soft, somewhat sad, laugh. “Only an alien would want to be friends with me.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little chapter, it was about time Clark told Bruce.


End file.
